


Old Habits Die Hard

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Drama, Fiction, M/M, Relationship(s), Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-07
Updated: 2007-04-07
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: A Partnership is born





	Old Habits Die Hard

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Old Habits Die Hard

## Old Habits Die Hard

### by Flutesong

##### [Story Headers]

  


Title: Old Habits Die Hard 

Author: Flutesong 

FB: 

Site: /Flutesong 

Warnings: M/K Slash 

Notes: A nod of appreciation for Trouble Man by S.N. Kastle. She used the phrase 

Old Habits Die Hard, so very, very well and I remember it 

April 2007 

Old Habits Die Hard 

Alex Krycek walked down the path to the beach. It was a well-worn path, generations of feet coming down from the town in summer for a swim, in fall for the crabs and in winter for the driftwood and in every season to the jetty and the boats. It was spring and the wind blew wet sand and caused the ocean swells to crest white and foamy. Alex pulled up the collar of his jacket and bent his head, forging on regardless of the wind. He walked this way everyday, whatever the weather, adding his well-worn boot steps to the ancient ones that laid the path before him ages ago. 

He was dead to the world, as dead as the town above, emptied when the last of the scrod were fished out and there was no more living to be made here. He had chosen a small, well-weathered cabin, one room and a makeshift bathroom, the roof and walls were still sound. It was warm and dried seaweed and driftwood made a pleasant fire in the old grate and a truly ancient Aga stove worked on coal, which was plentiful in the abandoned iron works. 

He'd brought provisions that would last him for months, eked out by what he fished and the bottled fruits and pickled vegetables he'd found in an abandoned farm house down the road. He was about halfway through his stash and not very worried about replenishing it, there was a town fifty miles away when he needed to go there. Besides, as foul as the weather was today, winter was over. 

The cabin had a back porch and on it an old model of a tub washer. Running the wet clothes through the hand-operated wringer was good exercise and his right arm bulged with muscles. His clothes dried quickly, strung up on the line across the porch, the fierce wind saw to that. He no longer carried a gun, but he still had a stiletto in his boot. Old habits died hard. 

He used his batteries sparingly, mostly for weather reports and the world news round up on Public Radio every Sunday. 

Otherwise, he was alone and he told himself he liked it that way. 

He ended his walk were it began at the headland at town's end. The library had survived save for the bottom shelves which had seen ravages by some storm surge years ago. He had plenty to read, amused himself, and shared the classics with the mice. 

He often thought he was as washed up as the town was and as crippled by the lack of the only work he knew how to do, like the absent fisher-folk. 

On days when the weather was bad, he made his way from house to house, peering into personal treasures left behind in the exodus. He had an odd collection of things from his investigations. A couple of fine pipes, carved of whale tooth or walrus ivory, a stash of fifties porn he'd found beneath a loose floor board and a dozen decks of unopened playing cards, from what had been the town pub, made up his booty. He'd found some very aged brandy too and drank it from a hand blown goblet he'd found in the big house up the road. 

Standing on the porch, his flannel shirts flapping in the wind around him, he looked into the horizon. A storm was on it's way. He dragged in a large pile of firewood. The Aga actually kept the cabin warm enough, but he liked a fire. He liked looking into the flame and remembering. 

He grabbed his shirts and went inside. He piled them on a chair to be folded later, filled a kettle of water to boil for coffee, poured a brandy and settled in front of the fire. The wind rose and he could hear it sing outside his cabin walls. The rain, mixed with hail came next and beat a tattoo on the roof. 

He drank his brandy, had his coffee and bowl of hot cereal and fell asleep to nature's racket. The pounding on the door went unheard, until a gust of frigid, damp wind blew in his face and he woke up. 

Mulder, his nose red and cheeks chapped, dripping on the floor from a wet head and a sodden coat, stood, as if the wrath of God had swept him before the wind and into Alex's presence. 

Alex blinked twice, sat up and said, "I'll get you a towel, close the door." 

Chapter 2 

Mulder was still standing when Alex returned with a couple of towels. He left Mulder to it, stoked the fire, and turned up the oven on the Aga. Mulder shed his coat, wet boots and rubbed his head. Alex remembered when Mulder had toweled his head, fresh from a swim in the FBI pool, before... Alex stopped remembering the before. 

Mulder sat on a chair before the fire and stretched out his legs to the warmth. So far, he hadn't spoken and Alex was waiting for the diatribe. He brought Mulder a cup of coffee and poured some of the brandy in a water glass. He set both on the end table closest to Mulder. Mulder picked up the brandy and saluted Alex, took a large gulp and coughed. 

"Scully and the baby, a boy, are safe. Well, safe more or less. They are being watched, but she and Doggett continue the X Files. I've been with Gibson Praise in Arizona. He's taught me a lot and made me rethink the last time we met. Or rather," Mulder smiled wryly, "whoever I met that looked like you, bled like you and supposedly died in place of you." 

Alex poured himself a brandy and sipped it, saying nothing. 

"Why the ruse, Krycek?" Mulder asked. 

"I'd failed," Krycek said baldly. "And with those guys you don't fail and get to keep going. They wanted me to kill you. I knew I wasn't going to do it, so I sent a replacement. They aren't hard to manufacture at Super-soldier central command. They have the vats working 24/7. I took off as soon as I could. Fooling them isn't easy either." 

"The replacement failed too," Mulder said. 

"Well, yeah. I gave it a very quick prcis of my thoughts and sent it to warn you and then deconstruct. It would have turned to goo within a few hours anyway." 

"Why didn't you just kill me and get promoted or whatever the new order does for good work." 

"I never wanted to kill you and their organization has a very limited management roster." Alex took another swallow of brandy. "I wanted to beat the Smoker at his game and run the show. He owed me. However, these guys, the super-soldiers, they're a different story. Even Spender didn't know about that side project." 

Mulder drank his coffee and laid his back against the chair, closing his eyes. "Gibson says they're vulnerable to irradiated magnetite." 

Alex stretched his legs, "I don't care. I'm done with them and whatever plans they have." 

"They have to be stopped, Krycek." Mulder said with heat. 

"Then stop them, Mulder." 

"I can't do it alone." 

Alex got up and restlessly added more wood to the fire. "You have Scully, Skinner and Doggett for a man-at-arms. They're your heroes. I don't have anything to give you and I want to stay far, far away from them." 

"You're happy being a hermit at the ends of the earth?" 

"It beats being implanted and becoming one of them. It beats having my other arm chopped off or ending up knee deep in Alien Oil. Besides, I'm not looking for happy, just some peace and living a little longer." 

"Bullshit, Krycek." 

"You want something to eat?" Alex asked, not taking the bait. 

Mulder sat up. "I have a carload of supplies out front. Some of it should go in a fridge." 

Alex made no move to get up. "No electricity here, just some cold pantries. It'll keep better in the car, it's practically freezing outside." 

Mulder looked around; saw the oil lamps and the candles. "We can eat the steaks now, the rest will keep." He got to his feet, pulled on his damp boots and reached for his coat. 

"Take this one," Alex said, handing him a beat up leather jacket and reaching for a thick pea coat for himself. 

The wind was fierce and blew sharp shards of sleet into their eyes. Mulder handed Alex as much as he could carry and scooped up a large load for himself. They went back inside and dumped it all on the small dining table by the stove. 

Alex broiled the steaks, boiled some potatoes and made more coffee. Mulder tore up the lettuce he'd brought and sliced a tomato. He put the other foodstuffs away in the deep pantry and tossed his small suitcase onto the same chair as Alex's unfolded shirts. Reaching for the salt and pepper, he sat down at the table. Alex dished up and they ate. 

"How'd you find me?" Alex asked at length. 

Mulder swallowed. "Gibson knew the general location. He'd been in your mind before, so he could suss you out. He said Spender is still alive too. I thought he was dead." 

Alex put down his fork. "He's alive?" 

Mulder looked into Alex's eyes, "He's alive." He said and watched for a reaction. 

"The bastard." 

"I thought you might be interested." Mulder said dryly. 

Alex made an attempt to chew and swallow another bite of steak. He choked. 

Mulder smiled. 

Chapter 3 

"You'll have to take the couch," Alex said later, after a mostly silent evening in which Mulder had dozed on and off while Alex pretended to read. 

Mulder nodded and watched Alex lift off a large plank of wood to uncover a divan bed in the corner of the room, which during the day served as a counter against the wall. He thought Krycek probably used the couch most nights. 

Krycek thought how unlikely a day it had been, almost four months in this deserted place and the first person to show up was Mulder. He cursed whatever evil spirit followed him around and never gave up. He'd wanted no more of the conspiracy or killing. He'd always wanted more of Mulder, but that pipe dream was his alone. 

Alex used the shower first, trying to remember the last time he'd spent the night in another's company, intimate or not. He'd figured out long ago that he was a loner, impatient, even after sex, to be alone again to sleep. He couldn't imagine how listening to Mulder snore all night and contain the long held lust for the man would make him feel. He resented Mulder already, coming here to recruit him back to the killing fields and the old bastard's realm. He really did not intend to go back, he might not know what he was going to do in the future, save living quietly and alone, but it wasn't going back into the same old mess. 

Thus, certain of himself once more, he rinsed off and pulled on the sweat pants and tee shirt he slept in. If his stump offended Mulder, that was just too bad, it offended him constantly. 

Mulder dragged in after Alex was done, already down to his skivvies and half-asleep. Alex took a moment to admire the smooth back and well formed legs of the other man, sighed and turned down the stove, adding enough coal to last the night. Mulder could blow out the lamp and the fire could burn itself out. 

Mulder stumbled out a few minutes later and Alex could smell the shampoo and toothpaste he'd used. It was a homey sort of scent and a reminder that he lived alone and liked it that way, dammit. 

Mulder doused the lamp, twisted and turned on the couch until he found his spot and Alex heard him sigh. 

"I've been sleeping in a barracks at Gibson's school," Mulder said, "and in the car on the way here. This feels good." 

"I'm glad you're comfortable," Alex said dryly and Mulder laughed. 

"I'm not going to harangue you, Krycek." Mulder went on, "But I can't imagine you want to leave Spender weaving his webs out there unhindered, and I do need help from someone who understands the situation." 

Alex harrumphed, "I am not your man, Mulder. I work my own agenda these days, and it doesn't include anymore lost causes." 

Mulder stifled another laugh and Alex frowned in the dark. 

"I think you are my man, Alex." Mulder said in a low voice. "And I think I've just begun to realize how much that means to me after all these years." 

"You're a lunatic, Mulder." Alex growled. 

"Ah," Mulder said, "But there's a genius to my madness, Alex. You'll see." 

"Go to sleep, genius," Krycek said, almost laughing at Mulder's insouciance. 

Chapter 4 

Morning brought a host of problems to mind for Alex. His usual routine of coffee, a walk, and then book with a combination breakfast/lunch was certainly not going to happen. The weather remained too violent for his walk, Mulder was too skinny to go without a real breakfast and he'd already pretended to read last night. Alex ran a rough hand through the scrub length of his hair, standing it on end with the pillow's residual static. 

Mulder was still out when Alex rose, washed up quickly and dressed. He shook his head over Mulder's ability to sleep through noise and light and the smell of cooking. How Mulder had survived this long was always a mystery to Alex. At length, when the eggs were done and the bread fried, he clanged the pots to wake the man. As soon as Mulder groaned, he poured the coffee. 

Mulder rose, took a leak and pulled on some clean pants and a tee shirt. "Cholesterol heaven," Mulder announced as he sat at the table. 

Alex shrugged, after what he'd been through, clogged arteries didn't seem to matter very much and obviously, watching Mulder tuck in to the generous portions, it didn't matter much to Mulder either. 

Mulder's energy level was up to par after the night's sleep and a huge breakfast. He cleared the table, replaced the plank on the divan and brought in the last load of stuff from his car. That he also trailed in wet sand, leaves and dripped all over the small room didn't seem to register, so Alex grabbed a mop and followed Mulder's exuberant trail. Mulder laughed, "You should have been in the Navy, Alex." He said, nodding at the mop. 

"Very funny, Mulder," Alex said, "I live here and I don't recall inviting you to stay." 

"You don't live here, Alex," Mulder said equably. "You're hiding here or doing penance here or something you think is worthy. This," Mulder said, sweeping his hand to include the whole cabin, "isn't you." 

Alex stood, mop in front of him like a sword, "As if you know me, Mulder, or what I am. This," said Alex, aiming the mop, "is exactly what I like and it is me now." 

"Bullshit," Mulder said happily. 

Alex ground his teeth. 

Mulder grinned at him. "I'm staying until you remember what you really are and want to shake this whole marooned on an island shtick. Just think, Alex, for once I'll have your back, no more going it alone. There's nothing we cannot do." 

"You are insane, Mulder. The last couple of times you had my back, I ended up barely alive. And alone or together, the super-soldiers have it all over us. They don't die, or hadn't you noticed? As far as I know, asking them politely to come on over to New Mexico and take a walk on nuclear testing grounds filled with underground caverns of irradiated magnetite will get us nowhere." 

Undaunted Mulder smiled, "See, you're thinking already." 

Alex ground his teeth until his jaw ached, he poured more coffee and wondered if he killed Mulder out here, where he could bury the body. 

Alex decided to take his walk, even heading into the teeth of the storm was better than Mulder's bright-eyed presence. On the other hand, maybe he should take a blood sample and see if Mulder's remained red. This cheery, determined man was not the Mulder he knew who and who had a quiver full of blame with Alex's name all over it. 

Alex headed outside. He tramped to the edge of town and began the trek down the headland. The wind and rain mocked him, managing to get under his collar and send cold tendrils down his neck and back. When he slipped and fell, sliding down a good four feet of muddy rock face, he decided to go back. 

Mulder was waiting for him, a package of instant soup simmering on the Aga and newspapers spread of the floor by the door. Mulder must have had the newspaper in his car, because Alex had used the last one he had to wrap fish. 

Mulder was hovering, helping Alex off with his coat and rubbing his neck with a towel. Alex, who had had enough of Mulder's bizarre behavior, took a swing and punched Mulder in the jaw. Mulder backed up, rubbing his jaw, a maniacal light in his eyes. 

Now we have it, Alex thought and prepared to receive Mulder's punch. This will remind him who I am, who he is, and he'll leave. 

Instead, Mulder grabbed him and dragged his body up close, smiled and kissed him. 

Alex flailed and Mulder held on tighter. 

Alex couldn't breathe and thought, this is impossible, impossible, impossible until Mulder opened his mouth and added his tongue to the kiss and Alex forgot to think and kissed him back. 

They stood there kissing, Alex half-unbalanced and Mulder grasping Alex's shirt awkwardly and neither of them cared, or thought or ended it. 

Long before Alex was ready to let go, Mulder broke the kiss and backed up, pulling Alex by the shirt to the table. "Have some soup," Mulder gasped. 

Alex watched Mulder ladle soup into a bowl. At length he said, "That was different, Mulder." 

"Shut up and eat," Mulder said, but his hand traced Alex's cheek, gently and he smiled. 

Alex's body shivered, half from his cold, wet feet and half from the effects of the kiss and spooned a mouthful of the soup. Mulder grabbed the towel and dried Alex's hair. When he was done, he kissed the back of Alex's neck and Alex shivered again. Mulder rubbed his shoulders, "Soon Alex," Mulder whispered in his ear, "soon." 

And, Alex didn't ask what was soon, but supped his soup and shivered. 

Chapter 5 

Alex wanted to ask a million questions, but that wasn't his way and as far as he knew, Mulder never answered a direct question directly in any case. The whole desire routine must be a joke. Mulder had figured out Alex's small secret and was making a play to get Alex to go back. He hadn't exactly hidden his leanings, although he went either way and had frequently done so in his bad old days. Now, several years from the disaster with Marita and no one to take her place after the loss of his arm, he was primed and knew it as a weakness. Especially Mulder, always Mulder, the dangerous and distant focus of his fantasies, what a joke and it was on him. 

Alex finished his soup. It was lousy and he only had the instant stuff around for emergencies, he made a good soup, he thought to himself. He took the bowl to the sink. 

Mulder got up too, and paced, fingering Alex's small store of possessions and knick-knacks, "I never figured you for a homebody." Mulder said. 

Alex glanced around the small place, he would hardly call this home, but it was true that he hadn't a record for keeping house anywhere the past ten years. "I never stayed anywhere long enough to bother before this." 

Mulder nodded, "My apartment is gone. I cleared it out before I left DC. My things are in storage although Scully appropriated the fish tank." 

"Why did you leave the ready-made family, Mulder? It was everything you seemed to want." 

Mulder sighed, drew the red plaid curtain away from the window and looked out into the storm. "It wasn't safe for Scully and the kid. It seems the super-soldiers want to keep an eye on the kid without me around to influence him in rebellion. Gibson said it was because they are afraid I will go back to when my brain was activated by whatever alien shit was added to my DNA and actually be powerful or something. I don't know what they're afraid of; it was hardly a success last time and had to be locked up like a lunatic." 

"I handled those pieces of the original ship, Mulder. They didn't do anything to me, although I did feel a strong surge of disassociation, almost like when the oil was in me. But I resisted and it faded pretty quickly." 

"Do you have them somewhere?" 

Alex washed the bowl. "Spender sent me away and I have never been back to see if they remain where I hid them. They were Spender's ace in the hole. From what I could gather, they had powers, once they were joined into a square, to cure diseases and reanimate dead tissue. He wanted them to cure his cancer. I think it's all hooey. Whatever special qualities they have are not for human consumption. I think they have the original instructions, maybe a map or something, which the aliens need to return home or contact each other. I think they have lost touch, over millennium, with their original purpose. Otherwise, as advanced as they are, they would not need any kind of collaboration with human beings. Why would they?" 

Mulder sat at the table and tapped his fingers. "I hadn't thought of it that way. I mean, the syndicate was in it for power, power over death and disease, power to enslave the earth. They never intended to actually assist with an invasion. All these side projects," Mulder flicked his hand, as if encompassing fifty years of a secret war in one swoop. "These last few years, I doubt if one hand knew what the other was up to." 

Alex looked at Mulder; he never guessed Mulder could be so pragmatic about Purity and the men who ran it. He's always taken everything so personally. 

Mulder smiled at Alex, as if he knew his thoughts. "I was dead and buried, Alex. That changes a man." He said and laughed. 

Alex looked around the small dwelling and focused on the view outside the window, "There are all kinds of death, Mulder," he said softly. 

"Yeah," Mulder said, slapping the table, "You've bought the farm too soon, Alex. There's a lot left to do." 

Chapter 6 

For a man who'd said he didn't intend to harangue Alex, Mulder never shut up. Every time he opened his mouth, it was about another aspect of the project. Alex gathered that Mulder had indeed; put a lot of it together. In some cases, he knew details Alex did not. In the back of every remark was an innuendo, as if Alex had been obviously seductive and Mulder perennially receptive. Finally, Alex could stand it no longer, "Mulder," he said, pitching his as low and as menacing as he knew how, "Cut the crap. You hate me for any number of things, some real and some imagined. This buddy-boy shit will get you nowhere. Whatever your agenda is, getting me to go back and work with you, getting me into bed or just fucking with my head, none of it is working. I wanted out and that's what I did. I have had enough spy vs. spy and all it got me was crippled and out gunned. You may not know when to quit, but I do." 

Disconcertingly, once again, Mulder laughed. "You can posture all you want, Alex, but the woe-is-me line is bull. You don't feel sorry for yourself, and the wounds you bear, you bear without taking any slack. Whatever the odds, you are not a quitter, I know that and you know that. Spender fucked you over; it's time to give him some of the same. The super-soldiers may be the acme of killing machines, but they are not smart and they have flaws. Underneath whatever whitewash you've sold yourself, you're really itching to get back in the game and kick ass. I'm saying we can do it together this time, no lies, no BS, and no pretence that you don't want to jump my bones and that I don't want you to jump. We've had one of the longest courtships in history, whether you want to admit it or not. And if you think that it was always Scully, you're wrong." 

"Tell that to the kid," Alex said, turning away to add more coal to the stove. 

Mulder sighed, sat down at the table with his head in his hands, "What'd you want me to do? She's been there all along and I've ruined her life. She wanted a kid, the artificial insemination didn't work, miraculously she comes back from a weekend in Hell with Spender and we end up in bed. Fuck it Alex, I'd been coy with her for years and my time ran out. I do love her; she is, in many ways, my other half. But you know, what she wants is that ready-made family. She figures she's paid for it in spades. She knows that it isn't for me, not now when the project had borne super-soldier-half breeds and not later if we win and stop the invasion. She once asked me if I wanted to get out of the car and settle in one of the nice, well-lit houses we passed, white fence included. I said no then and said no just before I left. I love the kid, God willing; there will be time to love the kid later, but I am not getting out of the car." 

"Get this through your head, Mulder." The bitterness at last coming through his voice at last, "I do not want to ride shot-gun to your top-gun." 

Mulder stared at Alex, silent for once. 

Alex started dinner. 

They ate in silence, at dusk and there was loll in the storm, Mulder went for a walk. He wore Alex's leather jacket and carried a gun. 

Alex let him go. 

When Mulder came back, he took a hot shower and opened one of Alex's books. He wasn't sulking, Alex thought, so much as biding his time. The evening passed silently, and rather than becoming tense and brittle, the silence became comfortable and warm. Alex had the extraordinary thought under other conditions, like if he's been a real FBI agent, they would've been friends long ago. He got ready for bed and after a few minutes, Mulder blew out the lamp and lay on the couch. 

In the darkness, Mulder began to speak, "A few years ago, Scully and I went on a trip to Area 51. I thought I had a contact there, a general who was going to spill the beans and give me proof that the government was using alien technology to build aircraft. I don't remember much happening, we got there and were forced out of the area, my contact never made. When we got back, my apartment had been redone, the bedroom cleared out, a waterbed installed and some new lamps. Strangely, when I went back to work, several of the women were very familiar, making comments and insinuations that I would be welcome in their beds again. I tried to pin down a timeline, Scully, admitting nothing, had some questions too. In the end, all I could come up with was a crazy theory that somehow time passed and then was erased. Whatever happened during that missing time, I was not myself and I had no memory of what I did. For months afterward, in many files, I found that I had redone and resubmitted paperwork, which rescinded my real beliefs and theories and agreed with Scully's instead. I have never figured it out and from time to time, I think about it. What if whoever I was during that time was the real me and what I am now is the illusion? I have faced many conundrums on the X Files, all kinds of paranormal or supernatural phenomenon, but this one is always in the back on my mind. The `what ifs' are endless." Mulder paused, and Alex heard him scoot around on the couch until he was comfortable again. "It made me think about what is essential to my being, my soul. Alex, you made your choices, those cannot be changed. Yet, the role you played, the things you've done have consequences. For you to quit now, when so much is coming to a head and the threat is immanent, is not a good idea. Whether you chose what you did for revenge or money or power doesn't matter. There are only a few of us who do not work for the project, who know what is at stake Despite what he's seen, Skinner is resigned to being a government official who will risk only going so far and no further.. Perhaps because of what she has seen, Scully wants a life with her baby. I came here hoping you would come back and join me to fight them. The world is at stake and however much you've been wounded or defeated, it is not time for you to quit." 

Alex listened in growing amazement. Mulder, in the dark, telling him tales as if he were Scheherazade, telling him his private thoughts, putting an end to the enmity, not excusing it or forgiving it, simply moving past it to what mattered. Alex felt his throat tighten, as he hadn't felt since he spent his first day in the prosthetic and knew it was now his burden, his life, to carry around forever. It felt like fate, like that something bigger which had drawn him into the whole mess to begin with, like his destiny was floating in the air, pushed by Mulder's words, back onto him. Alex had never thought of himself as a will-o-the wisp, but here in the dark, with a man he'd longed to know for so many year, his heart's desire, he knew the storm that had brought Mulder to his door the other day `was' his destiny, was his fate and live or die, he was bound to it, to Mulder. 

Alex sighed and knew Mulder heard it. Was he weak or was he strong? Alex knew he'd done things no one else on earth had done before. He knew he had survived by will alone, always alone. Would he take this chance to go back, fight the devil from on high instead of in the muck, and the mire where he'd spent the last years? Would he go back with Mulder by his side, on his side and not fight alone? Alex rubbed the rude end of his missing arm. He had already paid a huge price. "For a man who promised not to harangue me, Mulder, you sure have a lot to say." 

Mulder laughed, it sounded almost choked to Alex. Was Mulder feeling the same weight of the darkness, of fate and destiny? 

"Come join me, Alex." Mulder said simply. 

"Yes," Alex replied and felt his throat relax, "Now can we get some sleep?" 

All was quiet. Minutes later, or maybe, Alex thought, in his dream, he heard Mulder say, "Thank you, Alex." 

Chapter 7 

Mulder woke happily; Alex could see that from the moment the man opened his eyes. Alex sipped his coffee, waiting for the barrage of plans, orders and explanations. Instead, Mulder stretched, saw Alex looking at him, and stretched again. He picked up his shirt and grinned wickedly at Alex. 

Alex knowing he had to begin as he intended to go on, raised an eyebrow and ginned back, licking his lips lasciviously. Mulder faltered, getting his arm caught up in his sleeve. Alex laughed. Mulder flushed. 

"Ha!" Alex barked. 

Mulder stilled, he stared Alex straight in the eye. "I wasn't bullshitting you." He said seriously and dropped the shirt on the couch. He came half the distance to Alex, put his hands on his hips and posed. 

Alex flushed. Mulder grinned. 

"Are we straight here?" Mulder asked. 

Alex laughed, "What a question." 

Mulder looked befuddled for a second, flushed again, took a deep breath and came all the way to Alex. He sat on the edge of the table, his boxers already tenting and his skin beginning to sweat. Nevertheless, he stayed there, within touching distance, breathing rapidly and silent, for once. 

Alex appreciated the view and the courage it took for Mulder to take the first step. With Mulder so close, smelling of sleep and warming under his gaze, Alex almost faltered. He reminded himself that Mulder was most likely as unused to intimate moments as he was and that, although it had been a long time, Alex was more experienced with men. Alex handed Mulder his coffee and when Mulder drank, Alex ran his hand up Mulder's thigh. Mulder made a coffee-logged `glug' sound and Alex grinned. He ran his hand down Mulder's other thigh and down to his ankle, pressing hard at the pressure points and Mulder flexed his foot and groaned. 

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, or Alex thought, with infinite detail, like one of his fantasies. He bent and licked Mulder's knee, his hand hovering over Mulder's erection. Mulder arched and Alex's hand was suddenly full of cotton-covered cock, damp and hot through the boxers. Mulder put down the coffee and put his hand on Alex's head, urging him toward his erection. 

Alex "tsk-ed, tsk-ed," deep in his throat and Mulder stopped pushing his head. Instead, he leaned back on the table, supporting himself on his arms, offering himself up to whatever Alex had in mind. 

Alex had so much in mind that his head was swimming, he wanted everything Mulder offered and he wanted it now. He licked Mulder's knee again, trying to be cool and collected. Mulder groaned again and Alex just knew Mulder was going to be a noisy lay and Alex liked noisy, he liked it a lot. He bit the side of Mulder's thigh, gently, but with intent and Mulder twitched. Alex pumped Mulder's cock a few times through the cotton underwear, feeling like a teenager copping his first feel ever. It was all so clear, the sounds Mulder made, the way he smelled, the shape and size of his cock and the flex of the muscles in his legs. Alex wanted to swallow him, wallow in scent and need, but a small iota of sense came to the fore, it wouldn't do to be overly enthusiastic and let Mulder know how much, how very much, he'd wanted this impossible thing. So, he relaxed his grip and leaned back in his chair. Mulder, reluctantly, opened his eyes, breathing hard. 

When Mulder leaned over and kissed Alex, he knew it was going to be all right. Mulder was not hesitant or holding back, and he fairly fried Alex's lips with the heat of the kiss, all the need evident. This time, Alex groaned and Mulder murmured his pleasure. 

Mulder slid from the table onto Alex's lap, straddling him, bringing their bodies together. Mulder wriggled in place and felt Alex's response. He grinned, and kissed Alex again. They grappled together in a much nicer way than they had grappled angrily in the past. Alex hoped the old chair would hold them and kissed Mulder back, taking charge and using his tongue to drive Mulder crazier, make him hotter and blow both their minds. 

There was no room for hands between them, so they rubbed and arched and moaned like teenagers in the back seat of a car and came, groaning madly, in a tangle, straining the last of the chair's nails and glue and heard an ominous crack before they ended up sprawled on the floor, laughing like lunatics. 

Chapter 8 

Quieting down took a while, neither wanting to be the first to acknowledge what had just happened, the intensity was too real and the responses too adolescent for either man to feel they had lived up to the measure of ennui one would expect from sex at their age. But, for Alex, the short session had only wetted his appetite, perhaps because he knew what other delights were in store with more intimacy. He rolled away from the debris of the chair, dragged Mulder with him and still chuckling, rolled on top of Mulder. 

Mulder stilled beneath Alex, but he didn't tell him to get off. Thus encouraged, Alex began to kiss him, using his good arm to prop himself up enough not to smother Mulder. While he kissed, Alex was thinking madly how to effect being on top with one arm. Yes, he was strong, but strong enough to support himself and fuck Mulder was questionable. As they continued and Mulder began to pry Alex's shirt off, Alex decided to just let things happen, if it got awkward or impossible, they would adjust. By the time they were naked, they were on the divan and the hard pillows supported the missing limb just fine, giving Alex increased mobility. He kissed his way down Mulder's torso, yanking lightly on Mulder's light body hair with just enough pull to remind Mulder who was in charge. Mulder conceded without a struggle. Alex wondered if that was because Mulder was too aroused to care or too worried about what was happening to object. 

Regardless, when he reached Mulder's pelvis and licked the seams of his thighs, Mulder let his legs fall open and began to make encouraging noises, and muttering a stream of erotic nonsense about how good everything felt and how aroused he was. Feeling both generous and incredibly aroused, Alex began to fellate Mulder, using every ounce of skill and experience he had. 

Mulder's scent and taste exploded on Alex's tongue and he sucked harder, moving his hand beneath Mulder's thigh and inching his way to the goal, stroking, pinching and taking Mulder deeper and deeper in his throat. When his fingers reached Mulder, Mulder was already damp with sweat and desire and Alex slid a finger inside. Mulder arched and yelped and Alex added a second finger. Mulder was so tight, but Alex wasn't going to give an instructional session for a first timer. He just plied his fingers and quickly stretched Mulder. There was no lube handy, but he had some condoms in the side table. He took his mouth off Mulder, and Mulder protested immediately. Alex laughed and told him to get the condoms. 

"Alex?" Mulder said hesitantly. 

"Good Mulder, it will be good, I promise," Alex said breathlessly and Mulder reached for the condoms. 

With trembling fingers, Mulder unwrapped one and pulled at Alex's arm. Alex came up and Mulder reached down and slid the condom on, taking time to feel Alex, to caress his erection and squeeze him teasingly. 

Alex, now half out of his mind, jerked and Mulder laughed the residual tenseness out of his body, relaxing and Alex knew he was almost there. He used his hips to part Mulder's legs wider and Mulder took the hint, raising his leg to the divan's back and draping it over the top. Alex praised this initiative, used his good hand to hold Mulder's ass-cheek wide and burrowed in, pushing until he found the spot and moving in as gently as he could. 

Mulder's body took exception to this intrusion, but Alex, in a mixture of praise and desperation, urged him to relax and let Alex fuck him. 

"Fuck," Mulder said softly, "Fuck me?" He took a breath and consciously relaxed, "Yeah, fuck me Alex," He whispered and Alex hoped he would last long enough to do just that. 

Alex slid in all the way, Mulder wailed brokenly, but Alex hoped the surprise and the discomfort would be fleeting and he was simply too far gone to stop and be reassuring. He drew back and came in again and something in his complete concentration got to Mulder and Mulder flexed back and they were fucking and Mulder was whispering, "God, God, God and oh fuck!" Repeatedly, and Alex figured it was all right and let himself go, surging in and out and back and forth and letting his passion ride him and he slammed home and came and Mulder cried out and it was all good. 

As soon as he could catch his breath, Alex pulled out, slid down, took Mulder's slightly deflated cock in his mouth, and sucked hard. Mulder arched, screamed, shoved back, and came almost immediately. 

A long silence ensued, broken at last when Mulder said, "Well..." 

"That's a deep subject," Alex answered tiredly and closed his eyes. 

Mulder said nothing, but his breathing took on a slower rhythm and he dozed, squashed beside Alex on the narrow divan, warm, satisfied, and enormously surprised. . 

Chapter 9 

Alex slid out of the bed, it was nearly dinnertime, but he thought it could be a millennium from this morning, and a million miles from what he'd imagined his life was going to be. He stared at Mulder, such a cipher, even now that he was a lover. He had no idea what Mulder really felt or wanted. That Mulder would want him to fight the good fight `with' him and have a relationship that mattered, that was as important as it was intimate, made Alex shake his head. It just couldn't be that simple. He'd had dreams, certainly, every man had dreams. Reality had taught him differently however, and having dreams come true was bizarre as hell. 

He washed up quickly and started breaking eggs in a bowl. He had some left over potatoes and there was still a tomato or two from Mulder's stash. It would be a simple meal. He began to scramble the eggs and Mulder awoke. He ambled over, uncaring of his nudity and watched Alex mix the eggs, his chin on Alex's shoulder and an arm around his waist. "That pad under the bowl," he said, "holds in place?" 

Alex nodded. 

"Clever," Mulder said and yawned, "is there time for a shower?" 

Alex nodded again. 

Mulder kissed the back of Alex's neck, patted his butt and wandered towards the bathroom. 

Affection, simple affection made Alex quake and he poured the eggs too fast into the pan before the pan was hot enough, entirely forgetting to melt the margarine first. "Get a grip," He told himself and scratched his neck where Mulder had kissed him. He put the bread in the toaster and shook his head. Maybe he hadn't experienced all the weirdness that was in store for him in this life time. 

Alex heard the shower run, tossed some shredded cheese onto the eggs and watched it melt. 

The End 

  
 

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Title:   **Old Habits Die Hard**   
Author:  Flutesong   [email/website]   
Details:   **Standalone**  |  **NC-17**  |  **38k**  |  **04/07/07**   
Pairings:  Mulder/Krycek   
Category:  Drama, Story, Relationship, RST   
Summary:  A Partnership is born   
  
  
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